Keep Your Enemies Closer
by Roja-Cyd
Summary: Chapter 4 Jackson and Lisa move into Perfectville to find the sleepers. JxL
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: The characters of Red Eye do not belong to me. I'm just playing with them.

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Chapter 1

"Is that him?" the silver-haired man in the dark suit inquired, watching intently through the pane of two-way glass. He stood as close to the glass as it was possible to get, studying the interrogation room on the other side of the glass, bare save for a single table and two chairs.

And the sole occupant.

"Yes, sir," the taller, dark-skinned man with the earpiece replied. "That's Jackson Rippner." They both watched as the seated figure in the metal chair shifted, the action causing his handcuffs to clink loudly.

The man in the dark suit smiled grimly. "I guess the name fits him. Does he know we're here?"

"He doesn't know YOU'RE here. We've been questioning him regarding his recent activities."

"And what did Mr. Rippner have to say for himself?"

"Not much, sir. He's been…questioned…" Here they both glanced at the fading bruise on Jackson Rippner's cheek. His wrinkled suit hid the rest of the pain the guards had inflicted on him. "That's all right though. We were able to get plenty of information from the men on the fishing boat."

The man clenched his fist. "Yes…them…Bastards." He sighed. "Well, let me talk to him."

"Mr. Keefe, may I remind you that this man was responsible for orchestrating the attempt on the lives of your family?"

Charles Keefe frowned at his bodyguard. "Johnson, you needn't remind me of anything. All the facts of this case are, unfortunately, carved into my memory. You're not going to change my mind. My family is always at risk. It's one of the risks of being who I am, and you know that... Besides, Rippner's just the wedding planner."

His bodyguard looked confused. "Excuse me, sir?"

Keefe waved his hand impatiently. "Y'know, when there's a wedding. Someone hires a wedding planner. The wedding wasn't the planner's idea, he just gets it going. And Mr. Rippner's plan would have worked, if it hadn't been for Lisa Reisert."

The bodyguard looked uncomfortable. "Yes...Ms. Reisert."

"Or, as I hear you boys call her, the 'security leak'." Keefe smiled wryly at Johnson. "Don't think I haven't heard."

The bodyguard came as close to a blush as he ever did. "Sorry, sir, I appreciate she saved your family. She's a hero, for sure. But…"

"Yes, but…" Keefe rubbed his chin, looking away. "She's going to have a lot of eyes looking at her, and most 'em aren't going to be friendly."

Johnson gave a short, worried nod.

"Well, with any luck, this plan is going to take care of three birds with one stone."

"Sir?"

There was a tired look in the senator's grey eyes. "Being Chief of Homeland Security has opened my eyes just a little, Johnson. Our boys are good, no doubt about it. Some of the best, in fact. But I know talent when I see it. And trust me, talent like that is few and far between. That man can think on his feet. It's simple, Johnson – Mr. Rippner is of more use to us out of prison than in it."

Johnson looked shocked. "Sir! You can't seriously be suggesting…?"

Keefe laughed at the look on his bodyguard's face, but the laughter had a hard edge to it. "Don't worry. I'm not planning on recruiting every assassin who tries to take a hit at me. That would be insanity. But this one…"

Johnson watched his boss, then turned to look at their prisoner, wondering what Keefe saw in the slim, hunched figure. As for the men who'd set off the rocket launcher…Keefe had already given explicit instructions on how to deal with them. Johnson noted with satisfaction that at least they would be in prison for a long time.

"Well," Keefe made for the door. "Better get to it. You know what they say. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."

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Author's Notes: Lisa will be entering this story very soon. Please review and leave a comment! Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

DISCALIMER: The characters of Red Eye don't belong to me.  


Chapter 2

"Stay in here and make sure no one else tries to come in." With those parting words, Charles Keefe quickly exited the small watch-room. Johnson watched through the two-way window as two of the guards outside preceded Keefe into the interrogation room. They took up stations on either side of the prisoner.

Jackson Rippner looked up briefly as Keefe entered the room. The senator was glad to see the brief surprise flare in Rippner's eyes before the emotion was quickly shuttered away. His face became a mask once more.

"Mr. Rippner," he greeted his enemy heartily.

Coming closer, he examined the man from head to foot. "Jackson Rippner, born in Dublin, grew up to become a badge-toting member of the IRA, blew up a few buildings here and there didn't you? Trained in Libya…and elsewhere. Decided to follow the money to different parts of the world, and now here you are. You've mostly lost that Irish accent, haven't you?"

Jackson cocked an eyebrow.

"Have our boys been treatin' you well?"

Rippner glanced up at the beefy bodyguard on either side of him."I can complain," he said mildly, rotating one shoulder painfully.

"I wouldn't advise it," Keefe warned. "Do you know how many counts of felony you're currently facing?" The older man placed his palms on the table, and leaned forward. "As Chief of Homeland Security, I can have you locked away for a very long time, son."

"But you've got a better offer," Jackson sneered.

It was Keefe's turn to be surprised. Rippner was quick on the uptake.

Jackson continued, "Turn informant on the people who paid me, and you'll make sure I disappear into the woodwork, is that it?"

Keefe suppressed a smile. So Rippner didn't quite know the extent of his plan.

"I've no need for that," he said, and seated himself in the other chair. "Your comrades were more than happy to give us any information we wanted. I'm afraid my men were a bit rougher on them than they were on you. Probably because you're still recovering from being stabbed in the leg three weeks ago? And shot?" He watched Jackson's reaction with interest.

Jackson's blue eyes narrowed, but that was the only sign he gave to acknowledge the hit.

Keefe signalled to one of the men. "I want you to see something," he said. The door opened and a small TV was rolled into the room. The guard switched it on.

The scene was a hospital corridor, at the tilted angle only a security camera could catch it at. A man made his way down it, walking casually as nurses and doctors passed him.

The scene switched to him outside the door of a hospital room, a guard slumped in his chair. The man swiftly entered, and the view switched again, to the inside of the hospital room, where a sleeping figure lay in a hospital bed, monitored by softly beeping machines, tubes sticking out of his nose and arms. The first man pulled out a syringe, and leaned forward, poised over the unconscious man, but was quickly subdued by two men who came out of nowhere, one capturing his wrist, and the needle with it, and the other catching him in a viselike grip.

Keefe watched Jackson's face. It was pale.

"I suppose you recognise yourself in the hospital bed," he said. "You were unconscious. No less than three attempts have been made on your life since you were captured, Rippner. Only one was recorded. Your compatriots tell us that they got a message from your boss. He's not happy, I hear."

Keefe was enjoying this- enjoying the look on Jackson's face as he struggled to master his rage. Let HIM know how it felt to have someone attack him when he was unknowing and helpless.

"What. Do.You. Want." Jackson ground out between clenched teeth.

"You."

Jackson turned a stunned look on Keefe. "Me? For what?"

Keefe assessed him carefully. This was the delicate part. "I was impressed with your chutzpah in the whole red-eye situation. You had a lot of problems right from the get-go, but you didn't let that stop you, did you? Starting with the delayed flight to Miami…"

Jackson stared at Keefe as memories played through his head. He forcibly clamped down on them, drawing on the well of ice within himself. Red-brown hair. Dimples. Shit.

"I could use a man like you, Mr. Rippner," Keefe finished.

Jackson stared at him incredulously. "You…want to hire me?"

Keefe chuckled. "Hire you? Mm, well…yes, you could put it that way. Or you could say I'm going to the trouble of saving your worthless hide from the men who are out to get you. You could put it that way, too.

My men have saved your life thrice over, and it's time for you to pay some long over-due interest on that."

Jackson bowed his head, so that his thick brown hair fell into his eyes. "You've got need of my skills, yeah?"

"That is correct."

"Well, it looks like I don't have much of a choice." Jackson raised his head, but his expression was shuttered. "All right, I accept."

"Good." It was the only way open for him, Keefe knew. He didn't fool himself that Jackson meant to keep his side of the bargain for very long. That's why there would be safeguards in place.

"My aide will give you the formal rundown on this later, but I'll give you the gist of what I want you to do. You know middle class American suburbia? I want you to infiltrate it. One community in particular- Acacia Heights, a small town. I've received intel from a reliable source that there are sleepers there- A married couple. But the source was unable to determine who it was, and since then the source has been…compromised. I need someone innocuous to go in there and find out the truth."

Jackson looked up, startled. "And what am I supposed to do with them when I find them?"

Keefe's eyes grew cold. "Neutralize them. They're supposedly two people from a country we just signed an agreement with, and this is not a show of good faith on their behalf. The couple has likely been in that community for a period of time, but our new 'ally' hasn't removed them. No one's moved away from the community. If I prove that their agents are within the country, then I get to ask for a lot more on the bargaining table."

Jackson grimaced. He understood the power of having the upper hand. Keefe was looking for an edge, and seemed to have determined that he'd find that in two sleeper agents. The man obviously used his lemons to make lemonade.

"I want you to masquerade as part of a young couple moving into the neighbourhood. The plan is to…"

"Hang on, hang on just a moment." Jackson broke in, interrupting the flow of speech. Keefe looked annoyed. "Yes?"

"Heh, I'd like to know how you expect me to pretend to be a couple?" Jackson lifted a manacled hand and pulled at his suit jacket. "As you can see, there's only one of me."

"You'll have a female counterpart, of course," Keefe explained. "The President is holding another meeting with this country in a little more than a month. I'll be attending as well. Before that meeting starts, I need you two to ferret out the agents and inform me of their identities. Contain them if necessary. Do not terminate. At any cost. That could prove messy."

Jackson listened intently. "Who is going to be the female agent?"

Keefe cleared his throat. "In fact, I haven't…"

He didn't even see it coming.

Jackson sprang from his chair onto the table, sliding across its shiny surface, twisting in mid-air and coming to a full stop behind Keefe, his manacles pulled tight around the senator's throat in one swift move.

The two guards already had their guns trained on him, but Jackson ignored them. His head turned, and he regarded the two-way glass impassively.

"You! Inside. Don't even THINK about calling anyone, or Keefe strangles on my handcuffs very quickly. I can hear you if you speak."

In the small room behind the two-way glass, Johnson sweated, a gun clutched in one hand. He lifted it carefully, but Jackson was using Keefe's body to cover himself. No way he could get a clear shot in. Could Jackson really hear him? He considered contacting his compatriots anyway, especially because Jackson was pulling Keefe along with him to the exit. But before he could make a decision, Jackson gasped and jerked. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he sank to the ground. Keefe freed himself and moved away, showing his guards the mini-tazer he had secreted in his pocket.

"You see, Johnson?" he called through the glass. "Thinking on his feet. I'd have been disappointed if Mr. Rippner hadn't tried something. It's just his bad luck I came prepared."

As Johnson hurried into the interrogation chamber, Keefe looked down at his fallen prisoner. "I think Mr. Rippner will be slightly more amenable now. Finish the briefing when he's awake. It's time to recruit the female half of this team."

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Lisa Reisert paced the living room of the safehouse impatiently. It had been three weeks since the red-eye incident and she was eager to get back to work. Anything, to stop her mind from re-playing the events of that Miami flight over and over again.

Sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night, convinced she hadn't been in time to save the Keefes. There was something strange about that time of night. At that time of night, her brain refused to believe her assertion that everything had ended well, that the Keefes were safe. She'd wake up with her heart pounding, and had to repeat to herself over and over again- _The Keefes are safe. The Keefes are safe._

At other times, she was convinced someone was following her, tracking her every movement the way her seatmate claimed he had for eight weeks.

Of course, this second conviction turned out to be true when she was assaulted outside a strip mall on her way to buy groceries. And that's how she had ended up in this safehouse. Keefe's men had whisked her away, forcing her boss to put her on 'indefinite leave'. They'd looked quite put out by the whole thing, she remembered. She huffed. _Well, sorry to inconvenience you, Mr. Bodyguards. If it wasn't for me, you all wouldn't even have jobs anymore._

She was bored out of her mind. Worried, and bored. Why had she been attacked? Was it a coincidence? The media hadn't really made the connection between the Miami flight and the destruction of Keefe's hotel room. As far as they were concerned, Cynthia was the heroine of the day. And Lisa was happy for it to stay that way. She certainly didn't crave attention. She was just glad she'd escaped with her life intact. From that maniac.

But someone seemed to know that she'd been involved. And they were striking at her. She put her hands to her forehead. When could she go back to work and stop theorizing about all this? It was way over her head.

Through the window, she saw two cars come gliding up the drive. They were stopped by a man dressed as a gardener, in reality a secret service agent. He spoke to the driver briefly, and let them through. Visitors!

Lisa figured it was Keefe. He was the only one she was allowed to see. She waited as the bodyguards emerged from the car and escorted Keefe in. He looked as handsome and debonair as ever, dressed in a deep blue suit, his silver hair brushed back. He smiled a greeting.

"Lisa!" He strode forward and smiled down at her. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Keefe," she replied, smiling back. "Would you like a seat, and some coffee?" Hostess training kicking in, but then, she also genuinely admired him.

Keefe took her up on the offer, seating himself on the tan leather couch. "Coffee would be great."

Lisa seated herself, knowing he'd been heard and that coffee would magically appear within a few minutes.

"How are you doing, Lisa?" Keefe inquired again, concern showing in his eyes. He took her hand, and placed it in his. "I understand there was an attack on you. In broad daylight."

Lisa nodded. "Yes." Even thinking of it was difficult. It made her feel helpless, as though she was being targeted by some unknown enemy whose face she couldn't see.

Keefe briefly glanced up at one of the guards behind him."We've been able to trace back something of this attack." He turned back to her. "I fear you're in grave danger, Lisa. The people who ordered the hit on me aren't happy with Jackson Rippner, and more unfortunately, they're not happy with you."

Lisa trembled, but forced herself not to show it."What do you mean? Why would they care about me?"

"Because you stopped them. They know you're a civilian, and yet you still stopped them. They must show that they won't tolerate that."

"Who is 'they'?" Lisa asked desperately.

"That's something we hope to find out very soon," Keefe replied with the smooth reassurance of the politician.

"Surely I'm safe here," she protested.

"Yes, but for how long? They'll keep trying to find you."

"Can't you…provide me with some other kind of protection? Perhaps…leave the country, or…"

Keefe looked away. "There is one thing. It's fairly nebulous, however."

"Yes?"

Keefe looked back at her. "Are you aware of the state of Khrygia?"

"It was in the news," Lisa replied instantly. Nowadays, the papers were one thing that kept her mind busy. "They're looking into developing nuclear power."

"That's right. It's a small country between Armenia and Iran, not really a part of Europe but not really the Middle East either, according to them. At the moment, the U.S. is treating with them. They've had strong ties with the U.S.S.R., and now Russia. So some of their alliances are suspicious."

"As you know, during the cold war, Russia placed sleeper agents throughout the United States, most of them with a particular mission in mind. They haven't really stopped, simply because the war is over. We strongly suspect that there is a pair of sleeper agents living in Miami, and we need to find out who they are."

"Why now?" Lisa asked.

"We think something's going down, so to speak. Or it will very soon. I've been told that the attempt on my family's life was a part of that. And this particular pair of agents will be involved in whatever is about to happen. And we have to find them before that happens."

"Are they targeting me now as well?" Lisa asked.

"You're a loose end," he explained gently. Lisa nodded absently.

"Why are you telling me this?" she wanted to know.

"You're not going to be safe here much longer. I figure you have a vested interest in this, and I'd like to assign you to my team of agent retrievers."

Lisa stared at Keefe. Surely she had misunderstood. "Excuse me? You want me to what?"

Keefe beetled his brows. "I'm sending a team of agents to the town these agents are in- Acacia Heights, here in Miami. I'd like you to go with them. You're smart, you're a quick thinker, and you don't have the look of a secret agent whatsoever."

"Um, that's because I'm NOT one, Mr. Keefe," Lisa couldn't believe she had to point this out. "Don't you have an entire stable of agents who are more than capable of doing this?"

"Of course I do, but you have one important advantage that they do not."

"And what's that?"

"You're trying to stay alive. It will be the last place the Khrygians look for you. All you have to do is act a part. The part of the loving wife. You and my agent, posing as your husband, will move to Acacia Heights as a newly-wed couple, and you'll have two other agents guarding you at all times. Once you find these agents, you'll have nullified the threat against yourself. We'll interrogate them to find out what's happening. Then, you'll be safe."

"This is insane." Lisa stood, and Keefe followed suit.

A tray of coffee appeared almost magically, and Keefe helped himself to a cup. "You two will have less than a month to find out who the agents in Acacia Heights are. For that, I need a bright, personable young woman trained to be courteous and polite. You're that in a nutshell."

Lisa gripped a cup of coffee to warm her suddenly bloodless hands. She turned away to think. Was Keefe serious? Apparently. He knew her background. He thought she could charm her way into the lives of a small town community and play detective? Didn't he know what a loner she'd turned into? Yes, and where had that gotten her? Nowhere, that's what. And all this inactivity was driving her bonkers.

"I've never had any sort of defense training," she said, and Keefe knew he was close to victory.

"Don't worry, your counterpart is well trained to handle that sort of thing."

"I see." Lisa thought for a few minutes. "If I did take this job…I'd like to learn some self-defense from your agent."

"Agreed."

Keefe watched Lisa battle herself. He suspected she had a warrior streak in her. Why else would she have fought Rippner when so many others would have given in to his manipulation? And that was one more crucial reason he needed her in particular to be paired with Jackson Rippner. No one else he knew had ever outwitted Rippner.

Lisa sipped her coffee, and wrapped her fingers around the handle. She turned around. "All right," she said, unknowingly echoing Jackson. "I agree."

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Author's Notes: I'm glad you liked the beginning. I hope you liked this chapter. It was more of a set up. Lisa and Jackson will meet in the next chapter.

Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Thank you for your reviews. Deathwing8 claimed she'd go mad if I didn't update, so this chapter is for her, because as a desperate fan myself, I have empathy for people waiting for red-eye fics they like to be updated. Um, I can only hope it was worth the wait.

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_Chapter 3_

Lisa brushed her hair in the mirror, and then carefully put away her toiletries in the left drawer of the vanity in the room Keefe's men had provided for her. She was as ready she'd ever be to get started on this 'mission', for lack of a better term.

It still made the breath in her lungs freeze, every time she thought about what she had agreed to do. Masquerade with a strange man- even if he was a trained agent- as husband and wife, live in a strange house, and try to find out who this pair of sleeper agents were.

She shook her head. It was impossible. She hadn't even recognized the danger in Jackson Rippner until his tone had gone from pleasant to threatening. Even then, he'd pretty much had to spell it out for her, as her frightened brain stopped thinking, and could only react.

She shuddered. Jackson Rippner. It had been three weeks since the red eye, and still she was haunted by memories of him. She stared at herself in the mirror. Still, these were tempered by the victory of having _defeated_ him. Seeing his resignation as he lay panting on her father's floor, blood seeping from him. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked out.

Keefe's men were waiting for her, tall and forbidding, and completely silent. Lisa flashed a brief smile at them, but they kept their stern mien. Lisa thought she should feel safe, and protected with them.

Yet the thought of living in a house with someone like this made her feel abruptly uncomfortable. They were all as stiff as boards.

They rounded a corner, and found themselves in front of a door. One of the menmoved forward to open it, and Lisa found herself being ushered inside with a polite nod.

Charles Keefe came forward to greet her, and Lisa glanced around as he led her to one of the chairs around a small polished round conference table. A tall, clear glass of water stood at her place, on a cork coaster.

"I'm just here for a few more minutes, really," Keefe said as he seated himself. "Johnson will be the one briefing you and…your partner."

"About that, Mr. Keefe," Lisa gave him a quizzical smile. "Who _is_ my partner? Is it one of the men outside?"

Keefe began to laugh. "Oh, those guys. Heavens, no, Lisa. They'd be spotted within a hundred yards by any civilian, let alone a trained agent. No…" He sat forward, elbows on the table, and steepled his fingers. "I had to find someone who is trained to interact with civilians and strangers without anyone having the slightest suspicion of who they are."

"In this day and age, it's getting harder to find good people, _smart_ people to train for this kind of job. Luckily, I've just signed up an agent who is skilled in precisely what I'm looking for."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Do you believe in second chances, Lisa?"

"Uh…" Lisa shook her head. "Excuse me?" She was starting to get a vague feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. "What do you mean?"

There was a knock on the door, and Keefe lost his smile. "Come in," he barked.

The door began to open, and Lisa stared, frozen, as the shadow of the door extended over the beige carpet, allowing her the glimpse of a shoe, the length of a dark trouser leg moving into her line of vision…Her gaze rose, higher, higher past the blazer and sweater, and she found herself pinned against her chair by cold blue eyes.

She couldn't breathe. Jackson Rippner closed the door behind him, smiling broadly. He looked eerily the same. The same soft brown hair, the suit blazer over a shirt, the feeling that the man within was constantly evaluating his surroundings.

"Hello, Lisa," he said warmly. He didn't give her time to react, instead turning to Charles Keefe. His tone was slightly more chilly as he nodded a greeting. "Charles."

Lisa's head swivelled as she watched Charles Keefe rise and shake hands with the man who had attempted to engineer his death. What on earth was going on?

She finally found her voice, as she struggled to her feet. "Mr. Keefe, this is…!"

"Jackson Rippner, I know, Lisa." Keefe strode over to Lisa, soothing her with his voice, holding her back from a full frontal attack on Jackson. Or perhaps running away out of that room as quickly as possible. Her fight-or-flight response was in full swing, and her body hadn't picked a choice yet.

"Listen, listen to me." Keefe forced Lisa's gaze to him by sheer force of personality. But she knew the real danger in the room. Her every atom could sense it. She peered around him at Jackson, who winked at her.

"Lisa, Jackson Rippner is currently on my staff."

Her head snapped back in shock. "What?"

"Rippner is on MY payroll right now. He's agreed to work for the U.S government. Now sit down." The last was said as a command.

Lisa sat slowly, unable to digest this. "How could that happen?"

"It's complicated, but not least of all, we offer Mr. Rippner a certain protection from his former employers." Keefe sat back and studied them- Lisa perched on her chair, Rippner still standing, surveying the two of them with amusement.

Lisa felt like her head was spinning. "Is our government so weak that it would try to use our enemies to gain strength?"

Keefe frowned, displeased.

Jackson came forward to stand in front of Lisa. He bent and crouched in front of her, bringing him closer to her level. "I'm not an enemy of the United Stated, Leese," he said. "I just work for whoever pays me the most, and Charles here has made me a pretty cushy offer."

And part of that was the chance to work with you, he didn't tell her. But oh, how his blood sang to see her again. The wide brown eyes, the beauty marks on her face, the lovely thick curls. And that indomitable spirit. It felt like Round Two in the boxing ring. And oh, yes, he was ready!

She still wouldn't talk to him. Instead, she turned to Keefe and whispered, "Are you seriously hiring a man who tried to kill your family?"

Keefe smiled bitterly. "Do you know how many people have tried, Lisa? Our security is better than you think. The fact that he came so close says something for his skills."

"Don't you have other people with those skills?" Lisa asked.

Keefe chuckled lightly. "Lisa, despite what you may read in the comics these days, I do not have Captain America on my payroll."

Lisa flushed and shot to her feet. "Actually, I read the newspapers, and according to them, you've got a lot of manpower. I doubt you even need me."

She stepped around the kneeling Jackson and made for the door. Jackson scowled at Keefe.

Keefe sighed and caught Lisa's arm before she could open the door. "I'm sorry, Lisa. I didn't mean to be condescending. I do have men and women who are brave and intelligent. But it's never enough. I'm sorry. This whole incident has shaken me more than I realize. Of course there's nothing I'd rather do than toss Jackson Rippnerin jail for 15 years..." He ignored Jackson rolling his eyes. "...but needs must when the devil drives. And we have a very urgent need here."

Lisa thought back to their conversation in the safe-house. They were on a deadline. And Charles Keefe's admittance of weakness, oddly enough, reassured her. He didn't like what he was doing, But he was going to do it. Well, then, so would she.

She turned around and glared straight at Jackson. "All right. All right, Jack. But try anything with me, and I will shove anything I can find in you without a second thought."

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Please review. This was the set up, and in the next chapter, our duo will be on the job, so things will pick up there.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

The shiny Riptide Blue Escalade turned smoothly into the driveway of a two-story whitewashed house with a pretty front yard and a two-car garage, just one in a row of cookie cutter homes that faced another row across the street.

"Home sweet home," Jackson sang as he brought the SUV to a stop. "What do you think, Leese?"

Lisa stared up at the house. It did look lovely. She peered out of her window at the houses outside. Did one of the homes in this town really house two sleeper agents, mixing with the community, but secretly awaiting orders of some kind? She shuddered, and turned away.

"My dream home," she agreed, avoiding looking at Jackson. She'd noticed that she had a nearly painful awareness of his presence whenever he was in her vicinity. Every time she saw his face, she had that claustrophobic sense of being back on the plane, just an armrest between them, as he hemmed her in, trapped her…reduced her choices to life and death. If she had the choice, she'd keep a room's distance between them at all times. And that wasn't all of it.

Ever since she had agreed to the assignment with him, she'd sensed a kind of suppressed glee within him. It just went to convince her that he had some sort of hidden agenda.

This was Jackson Rippner, after all. He'd been unfailingly polite to her, of course. Especially in front of Keefe, as well as in the two days they'd waited for Keefe's people to fake a 'move' into this house. She and Jackson had agreed to an uneasy truce in Keefe's office, though Lisa found it was a bit harder to implement in real life than in theory. She just didn't trust him an inch.

"Get the cat, please, Lisa." Jackson requested, the very model of a charming husband, exiting the vehicle to grab their suitcases from the back. In his slim black pants and yet another blazer, he looked like any ordinary guy you might see on the street.

Lisa got out and walked around the car to study the black Burmese cat in its travelling kennel. The cat was on loan, to make them look 'more like a family'. "Hey, Dusty," she cooed. The cat regarded her with unfriendly green eyes. Lisa didn't mind. In fact, she pretty much sympathized with the creature, corralled as it had been into national service. Hm, just like her. She carefully lifted the kennel and walked into the house, looking around.

Amazing. Keefe's people had done their job, all right. The house was completely furnished, even though they'd left some boxes to be opened scattered around the house. She'd been told her wardrobe had been sent ahead, so she'd have to check which room was hers.

She set the kennel on the tiled floor, and moved to unpack the carton on the counter labelled 'Pet Stuff'. She removed two dishes, filled them with water and food, and placed them on the floor so she could unlock the kennel. The cat shot out, and headed straight for the water, ignoring her as though she had ceased to exist. She smiled.

Jackson had left their suitcases in the living room, and was going around checking the windows and doors, as well as the alarms, making hums of satisfaction as he came across something new or something he particularly liked.

"Such a picture perfect American small town," he tutted. "Who'd think to find the enemy here? It's almost like the setting for _Leave it to Beaver_."

Lisa was startled that he'd echoed her thought so completely. "Well, sometimes the more friendly and harmless something seems, the more likely it is to have an ulterior motive," she said tartly.

Jackson laughed. "Learned a thing or two since we last met, haven't you Leese?"

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter to glare at him. "Oh, yes, it's a lesson I'll remember for life."

"Then I suppose my mission wasn't a complete waste of time," he said, and turned away to check another window. Surprised, Lisa stared at his back.

"How's your Dad doing?" he asked offhandedly.

"How's your boss?" she shot back. He swung around, and gave her an unfathomable look.

"No idea."

Lisa felt a chill anew at the thought of sharing a house with this man for a month.

Suddenly, she wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

"I'm heading to bed," she said. "Good night." Terse, but polite.

Amusement glinted in Jackson's eyes. "I bet you were quite relieved when Keefe agreed to separate bedrooms."

"It was a dealbreaker," Lisa agreed, sailing up the stairs.

"Too bad," he muttered softly, watching her slim figure climb the stairs.

The next morning, Lisa woke slowly to soft light entering her room She rubbed her eyes and checked her clock. Six am. Hm, it was a Saturday, but she was used to rising early.

The thought that Jackson might be prowling around the house discouraged her from leaving her room, but she couldn't cower here. She rose, padded into the bathroom. After a warm, bracing shower, she dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and went downstairs, to find Jackson beating eggs in a bowl in the sun-lit kitchen.

He wore jeans as well, that hung low on his hips without a belt. The sleeves of his old maroon sweatshirt were rolled up nearly to his elbows. And his feet were bare. Once again, Lisa was struck by how cosy the whole scene looked. And she tried to tear her gaze away from his feet. She looked around. She couldn't get over how _pretty_ the whole place looked.

He turned to her. "Aw…I was imagining you in a dress and high heels, your hair all made up." Or even better, he thought, still sleepy and in her daisy-faced pajamas, her hair messed from bed, or a night of pleasurable sex…where he'd been the one to provide that pleasure.

Lisa shook her head, amused despite herself. "Acacia Heights isn't really a Stepford town, you know. It just looks like it. I'm sure there aren't any perfect wives around here."

Jackson placed a frying pan on the stove, and poured a measure of olive oil into it, carefully adjusting the heat. "I can hope," he said with a grin.

"We're not really married," Lisa reminded him, though she thought she really shouldn't have to.

"No, we just have to act like it." Jackson winked, and Lisa found herself blushing. Crap. She swung around, pretending to hunt for plates and glasses. By the time she'd set the table and fed the cat, Jackson had toast and omelettes ready, as well as tall glasses of orange juice. He sat, and cast an expectant look her way.

Lisa baulked for a second. Breakfast, with Jackson Rippner? Oh well, she'd shared nachos with him already. What was a few more meals?

She sat and helped herself to toast and an omelette, constantly aware of his regard.

"You know, I'm not sure this was such a good idea," Jackson murmured as he whacked the Heinz ketchup bottle over his plate.

Lisa glanced up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," _whack whack_ "that you're as stiff as a board, " Jackson said. _Whack_!Sauce squirted down onto his omelette and he set the bottle down to look at her. "No one's going to believe we're a couple if you don't relax a little."

"Maybe they'll just think you're a wifebeater," Lisa joked.

Jackson's eyes went cold. Suddenly the memory of him strangling her in the plane washroom came back, and a frisson of fear went through her. _No! I won't be defeated before we even start this._She straightened her back.

"Don't worry about it," she advised him. "When we come across somebody, I'll do my best to look loving."

"You could do with some practice," he said wryly.

After breakfast, they went for a walk,forcing Lisa into even closer physical proximity with Jackson."Don't you think it's too early?"she asked. He was so close to her that occasionally his sweatshirt would graze her elbow, and she felt a tiny shock every time it happened.

"Small town. Everyone's awake earlier than not."

"I think we should hold a barbeque," she said. "It's the fastest way to get to meet people."

"I agree." Jackson strolled beside her casually, taking in the sights of kids on bicycles chasing each other down the street, and a woman walking her dog. A man was reading a paper on his porch.

"Check that out," Jackson whispered.

"What?"

"The woman coming towards us with her dog. She looks married. Young. Upper middle class. She'd be someone ideal to start with. No, don't _look_ at her."

"What, are you just going to strike up a conversation? Hi, we're your new neighbours, invite us over?" Lisa wanted to know.

"No. Watch this." Jackson brought his hand to his lips briefly, so briefly that Lisa nearly missed seeing what he held in his fingers.It was awhistle. He must have blown it, but she didn't hear anything.

However, the dog ahead of them did. It was a beautiful Irish setter, its coat a deep red. It barked, and then pulled on its leash, surprising its owner enough into making her let go, and it darted right for them.

"Sunny!" The young woman cried, breaking into a sprint.

Lisa gave a little shriek, startled by the dog's headlong rush. She didn't count herself as a coward or anything, and the fact that she clutched Jackson'ssweatshirt in a blind panic for a second had nothing to do with anything, she told herself.

Jackson ever so smoothly reached out and grabbed the dog's flying leash as it ran past them, jogging a bit so he wouldn't choke the dog. Eventually, the dog stopped, panting, and Jackson stooped and stroked it, talking softly.

The woman and Lisa reached him at the same time.

"Oh, thank you!" The young woman gasped. "She's really fast! I'd have had to chase behind her for miles if you hadn't caught her! And...I'm not really in the best of shape to do that!"

"It's no problem," Jackson smiled up at her. "You've got a beautiful dog. Yeah, you are. Aren't you, girl?" He ruffled the dog's shaggy coat, and the setter woofed and licked his hand, and stared adoringly up at him. The woman had something of a similar look in her eyes as she stared at Jackson, Lisa noted with amusement.

"Here you go," he said, standing and handing the leash over to the young woman.

"Thanks again! I'm Mary." She gave him her hand to shake and flashed Lisa a smile as well.

"No worries. I'm Jackson. Jackson Rippner, and this is my wife, Lisa."

Lisa smiled back at Mary, thinking something sounded weird about Jackson's voice. "Hi there. We just moved here." Oh! What a way to insert that in smoothly. Mary could probably see right through her. She was a terrible spy.

"Really? That's great!" Mary exclaimed. "Did you buy that house the Spiners moved out of? House number 43? Oh, yeah. That's it! Okay, you guys probably haven't even unpacked yet. Come over and meet my husband. I'll make you some breakfast as thanks for catching Sunny."

"Oh, no, that's quite all right," Jackson said with a hesitant expression. Lisa's eyes widenedas she figured out why he sounded strange. Somehow, a hint of an Irish accent had made its way into his voice. "We don't want to put you to any trouble."

"Are you kidding me? It's no trouble! Gotta welcome the new neighbours, plus you guys saved Sunny from being run over by a car or something! See, I live right over there."

Talking and gesturing, and also hanging onto Sunny, Mary somehow pulled them all the way to her blue and white house, where a sprinkler was cheerily watering the lawn.

Inside, Carl, Mary's husband, didn't seem nearly as enthusiastic to meet them, though he was quite polite. Lisa figured it had to do with the fact that it was seven am on a Saturday, and who really wanted guests? Plus, he had a bowl of oatmeal in his hand and was watching sports reruns.

"Is that a fly fishing trophy I see?" Jackson queried as he approached their mantelpiece.

Carl immediately perked up. "Yeah, you do fly fishing? Not too many people around here that do it, though we've got a great river in the back."

"I dunno," Jackson mused. "I've been thinking about it, but camping's my main thing. I used to hike up to the Rockies around our old place, and there's some good lakes up there…"

"Are you kidding me? Mary and I go camping every summer! Unbelievable!" Forgetting the sports channel, he set his bowl down and took Jackson by the arm. "Come on, I gotta get my map and show you some of the sweet spots around here."

Lisa watched bemusedly as Jackson won Carl over as easily as he had Mary.

"Hey, looks like they're bonding," Mary laughed. "Let's go to the kitchen, okay, and I'll see if I can dig up some pancakes."

Lisa thought of her already full stomach and groaned.

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There you go! Chapter 4. Please review if you liked it. I put this up faster thanks to all the reviews I got for Chapter 3.


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